Tuesday, November 29, 2011

page 25

loose and squeaky now there is a rattle to your walk now still I cannot forget who you were even if you are a different person now in love with the repulsive linked to the flesh thrown back into the box the rotten decay withstanding the exclusion worse than a serial killer praying to the aliens a dark and evil spirit talking about the slaughter we are cooked meats sold in a box with cheese and crackers check your expiration date the butcher and his knife they are fulfilled by my flesh recording the distinctive between bone and bone beyond the scope of the prospective you invest in gold and the overwhelming loathing a twelve pound sledge hammer breaking the ribs devastating all with my war club I am the attack a harvest of death  the walls collapse promises put on hold the band plays on but no one is dancing there is a cost to be paid you become dislocated the connection severed split in two by your secret fears rewarded by your tongue the death watch crawls in sets out to destroy threatens to devour framed within the abandonment knowing the gone clouds and rain the sky makes love to the earth I am driven on by oblivion your serve my purpose practicing our old pagan games she played the flute while I swung the blade brittle and tangible we tangle our lives like old weeds you hide the sunshine from me watching you undress in the darkness I unzip my fly we fuck life beasts exploding my wad inside you soaking each other up two sponges soaking up the desire we empty ourselves into each other I fell into you catching me you are exposed to the madness slowly we become one being one mad trapped animal just call me AC and stop breathing on me your breath smells like burnt toast light up another joint and sit down and watch the big bang theory nervous said something over the phone a long string of vowels salted with a few choice swear words it is going to be death and destruction nervous is searching for a new way of life a life with lots of swag and that will pay out double at the end of one’s life  I am most certain  that such a life does not exist but nervous is willing to give it a try climbing the telephone pole in three times the speed his eyes are red as a tuner with a gastric bypass surgery some couples were dancing to elvis singing about life in the ghetto nervous asked a girl in green eye shadow to dance she was nursing a white Russian and watching the bills beat the jets on the tube she felt a bit childish sitting on her barstool looking for her initials that she dug into some guy’s heart the earth tilting on its axis a ring of moisture playing with the napkin a voice a disembodied voice one that floats up from the floor she wants to be in television a voice in the television she wants to have a mission something she can believe in something she can die for every night she is in the internet preaching about her religion trying to make a difference in the world trying to remove the suffering from all the mindless human beings you can pull out your credit card and make a donation right now it is good to give until it hurts make it bleed a little for a just cause I mean who would want to increase suffering certainly not a rational human being like you come on  Mr. Nervous get out your check book and write the little lady a big fat check it will make your conscience go away just like all the alcohol and drugs it goes away you don’t have to think how the choices you make in your everyday life increases the pain and suffering of so many millions of others chewing the whiskey out

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